


Return To Me

by NightwingEarth16



Category: Nightwing - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightwingEarth16/pseuds/NightwingEarth16
Summary: After getting shot and loosing his memory, Ric Grayson is approached by a young woman who claims to know him. The real him.





	Return To Me

“Never seen a girl like that in here before.” 

I turn to see who Nick is referring to, and my eyes widen slightly. 

Making her way towards the bar, is an unnaturally attractive woman. Maybe my age, long straight black hair, pale skin and dark green eyes. She’s not dressed like the usual bar chicks. No flashing cleavage, high shorts or fishnets.

She’s wearing something that covers her skin, so not a hooker. Black skinny jeans, studded ankle boots, a white shirt with a black jacket. 

I swallow my gulp of beer as she comes to me. 

“You’re Ric? Ric Grayson?” 

“The one and only.” 

I smirk at her. She has a poker face, but her eyes look almost broken. 

“Do you want something from me miss....”

”Emily. Winter.” 

Emily Winter.

She spoke with such familiarity, like she knew me personally. I’ve never seen her though, and I would know if I have. 

“Well, Emily, is there something you need from me?” 

She glanced around at the bar, and noticed the guys looking at her. 

“Can we talk?” 

“No reason why not. Want a drink?” 

I gesture to the stool next to me. 

She looks hesitant, then sits. The bartender scoots over.

“What’ll it be?” 

“Gin and tonic please.” 

She said please. That’s the first I’ve heard for a drink order. 

He begins to mix her order. 

“You said you wanted to talk. What about?” 

Emily takes out her phone and shows me a photo. 

I nearly drop my drink. There a man smiling next to her, holding out her phone with a snow covered field behind them. He looks exactly like me, and they both look so happy. 

“What the hell is-“

”That was in January.” 

I stare at her, unable to force the words that are piling in my mouth.

Her drink arrives, but she ignores the glass, only saying thank you. 

“I’d think I’d remember taking a picture with you in January. What did you do? Photoshop me with a wig?” 

Emily puts her phone away, “No. I just need you to listen.” 

“To what? Hear you say that we know each other? I’ve never even seen you until now.” 

“Richard, please listen.” 

I stare. Richard. How she knew my full name, I don’t have social media so I can cross off that guess. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

“Emily. Emily Marcella Winter.”

”Who else are you?” 

She looks like she’s about to cry, but inhaled and turned to her drink. 

“I didn’t believe them when they told me that you had amnesia.”

That’s when it hits. 

“You friends with those guys that keep telling me I’m someone else? The redhead chick and the motorcycle dude?” 

“Babs and Jay.”

”Whatever their names are, what do they think sending someone else over to try and-“

”They don’t know that I’m here, Dick.” 

I stare at her.

”Where did the name calling come from?” 

Emily actually grinned slightly. 

“I wasn’t insulting you. That’s just what the usual nickname for Richard is.” 

Oh yeah. Dummy. 

“So, you’re friends with them, but they don’t know you’re here?” 

“Jason’s protective of me. I’m guessing he wouldn’t let me come here.”

I snort. A grown man not allowing a grown woman enter a bar? 

“He your protective big brother? Boyfriend?” 

“Not my boyfriend, but we grew up in the same area, so...kind of my brother.” 

“Good for you. Why did you come here?” 

Her smile drops. 

“I wanted to try and help you.” 

“Help me? With what? My memory? I don’t need help from you or those others.” 

“You attend bars regularly.”

”So?” 

Emily looks up at me, her eyebrows slightly scrunched, “The other you hated drinking.” 

“The other me? I’ve told this to everyone who tried to _help _me, this is me. No body else in this body but me.” 

She looks broken again. 

“What was that guy to you anyways?”

”You’re my boyfriend.” 

Now I drop my drink, or put the empty glass back on the bar. 

“So what? Wanna go out back and screw?” 

“That’s disgusting.” 

“That’s what couples do right? They screw each other.” 

Emily looks mad.

”I’m starting to believe you. There’s nobody in you that I know.”

”Ouch, I’m in so much pain.”

Nick and August stumble over, a pool stick in Nick’s hand. 

“Who’s your friend?” 

I look at Emily, her nails digging into the wood of the bar, then back at the guys. 

“A lost girl.” 

“Then can we step in?” 

I snort and wave, sliding off of the stool, “Don’t kill me if she bites.” 

I make my way over to the pool table just as I hear her say something in a quiet tone, “Touch me and I break your wrist.” 

She must be out of her mind if she thinks that-

There’s a thud and a crash that makes everyone turn towards the sounds. August is rubbing his head and Nick is rubbing his ribs, both of them on their knees. August’s head is wet with shards of glass sticking out of his hair, and the pool stick is now in Emily’s hand 

“What the...we’ve got a fighter. Nice.”

Emily doesn’t look pleased at Nick and August, nor does she notice the other man until he taps her shoulder.

”Never seen a woman do that to those guys. How much?” 

“What?” 

“How much for you to come home with-“ 

He doesn’t finish the sentence as she uses the pool stick to sweep his knees out from under him, sending him down. 

August stands with a sadistic glare in his eyes. 

“Gonna pay for that.” 

Emily rolls her eyes and walks away from the bar, only stopping when everyone is blocking her. 

“Around here,” August grins, “When a woman comes into this bar, she doesn’t leave without satisfying everyone.” 

Emily looks as though she’s both bored and tired. Bored? 

August jolts at her, and before he could touch her, Emily jumps backwards, over his head and swings the pool stick across his skull. August sinks to the floor. 

Nick pulls out his switchblade, but she jabs the end of the pool stick into his hand, forcing him to let go. Emily picks up the blade and stabs it into the wood of the bar.

Nobody else moves towards her as she walks through the bar, stopping at me. 

“If this is the real you, I don’t like it.” 

Emily walks out of the bar without another word 


End file.
